


Upon Deaf Ears

by JustABeeWithAPen



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: A tape recorder dies, First time writer, Norman is deaf and sad, One-Shot, slight angst(?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustABeeWithAPen/pseuds/JustABeeWithAPen
Summary: Just a little one-shot about our favourite flashlight boy, it's just sort of a way for me to test the waters.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Upon Deaf Ears

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so I've tried to make it very clear I am a very new writer, so this may not be high quality! If you're looking for a story that'll hold your attention and be good, I suggest looking elsewhere.

Splash.

Splash.

Splash.

The sounds of feet trudging through the inky ocean echoed through the decrepit halls.

Splash.

Splash.

Splash.

Pause...the creature who sullenly roamed this floor of hell found something new in their familiar path. With the quiet clicking of it's shutters, the projector which sat heavily on his shoulder tilting slightly in confusion, as it bent down to examine it. The object was a half-submerged cassette, spluttering as it struggled not to sink into the depths, had floated into his path. If he hadn't noticed it likely would have been crushed beneath his feet. The usually apathetic humanoid couldn't help but bend down and pick the object up, feeling a strange sort of kinship with it, before continuing on his path. Despite the immense strength contained within those claws, the tape recorder was held with surprising gentleness, as the creature trudged along it's flooded home.

Very rarely did anything but unwise toons and the angel's minions ever venture down into his domain. How this strange object managed to get here was a complete mystery. The projector headed creature tended to ignore anything that didn't move, but something about the tape recorder seemed so very familiar. It stirred within him muddled feelings that he hadn't had in...in a very long time. Feelings of confusion, nostalgia, and fear. But the time for investigation would come later, for he had a path to follow and a home to protect. The angel had been getting more and more daring, sending ink monster after monster after him. Each fell to his uncaring claws, and he'd continue onward, ever vigilant. He had a job to do, a home to protect, and no one was going to stop him.

After finishing his route through the halls, the projector creature quietly slipped into one of the off-shoot rooms, well off his usual path. Guided by the light from his "eye", which nobbed up and down with each step, they stepped into a small office room. Furnished by only a single table; missing half it's leg and laying quite lopsided, and a crumbled chair, he softly set the cassette down. Luckily the ink did not cause the device to slip off the tilted table. Drops of ink splashed into the ocean below from the ceiling, leaving splatters like blood down the walls and on the furniture. The soft "plop" of ink hitting his head was completely ignored by the creature whose attention was devoted to the device. Using his claws, clumsy and large no good for delicate work, the being was having a hard time trying to figure out just what was so important about this thing. After messing with it for a few minutes, getting absolutely no results other than more inking drooling from its innards, the creature was about to give up. Then the wheels visible from inside the machine began to turn, and a mechanical whir of excitement emitted from the chest of the creature as it eagerly held it close.

And...

Nothing.

Even though the tape was spinning nothing else was happening, leaving the creature just as confused as before. Letting out a screech of frustration he slammed his hand palm first onto the device, forgoing gentleness for the chance of a result. An answer. Anything. 

Still, nothing.

In a fit of rage the creature balled its claws into a fist, and with all its might threw the device directly at the wall. As expected the tape recorder shattered upon hitting the wall, crumbling to the floor in a shower of metal and sparks. This caused the creature to grow more frustrated as he grabbed his head and tugged at the sides. So close! So close! It had begun to feel things that had long since left him. Memories, however faint, of who he might have been were floating beneath the inky waves, just out of reach. Like a toddle throwing a tantrum he began to lash out at the room around him, starting with the table. Two fists came barreling into the old, and already quite fragile, table smashing it into splinters within moments. The sounds of horrible screeching echoed the room as he ceaselessly rounded on the table with his hands, only stopping once the table was little more than a glorified pile of splinters. 

Soon the anger began to fade, as his interest in the situation began to wane. There were things to do, projectors to fix, a home to protect. There was no time for anger, nor memories, and so mere minutes after his tantrum the creature turned on his heel and left the room.

Splash.

Splash. 

Splash. 

The sounds of feet trudging through the inky ocean, fell upon deaf ears.


End file.
